


Collection

by Veronibell



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 15:21:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1433290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veronibell/pseuds/Veronibell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Generation Kill drabbles featuring a variety of characters and parings.<br/>These are all really short, the aim of the original post was to write a minimum of 100 words for each 'prompt'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Voicemail

**Author's Note:**

> This and the rest of the drabbles in this work were originally posting on LJ in the we pimping/generation kill comms.  
> But have recently decided to post everything on here too.

Voicemail: 185 words  
   
Ray's answering machine light was flashing when he walked into his apartment. Standing in the doorway he watched the light as it kept flashing. In its own way it was hypnotic the blink of the light seemed to be in time with the crack of thunder outside. It had only been three hours since he had walked away from the guys in the bar, it had taken him that long to walk home flat ass drunk. When it had started to rain Ray had stopped in a park and stood with his face raised letting himself get soaked right through. It had been refreshing. It had given Ray the chance to sober up, given him time to think.  
Eventually his sodden clothes became uncomfortable, pushing off the doorframe he started stripping on his way to the shower. He threw his belt over his shoulder not caring where it landed. He heard the machine start to play. He froze with his shirt half way off when he heard the voicemail started; _"Ray? Ray, it's me Walt...c'mon Ray we need to talk, I need to...shit Ray please."_


	2. Consider

Consider: 132 words  
   
Ray stood at the end of the cereal aisle and watched as Walt stood with his head tilted and his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth. Ray couldn't contain the smile as he walked forward, it had just become part of their weekly routine, both of them doing groceries. And Ray finding Walt considering some choice of item. Two weeks ago it had been the type of toilet paper (2-ply or 3-ply) last week it had been the type of apple (Red or Green) that they would get. It had been like this since they had gotten back, and Ray loved that about him. It was a quirk that Ray never got tired of.  
"Walt."  
"Ray." he didn't even turn his head when he spoke. "What cereal did you want?"  
 


	3. Wedding

Wedding: 180 words  
   
"Brad! Hey Brad! Where do you think she hid the knife?"  
Brad raised his head from the couch, looking over at Ray in the kitchen, "What are you talking about you crack addled hick?"  
"Your ex. Where do you think she hid the knife to stab him in the back after the wedding?"  
"Ray" there was warning in his voice but as usual Ray ignored it "No seriously, you still walk round with one sticking out your back." Ray was getting worked up and indignant on Brad's behalf, all because of the card that had arrived from his ex and her husband saying they were expecting a child. Brad really wanted to shut Ray up so he stood up and grabbed Ray around the middle, "Ray, shut up." he opened his mouth to argue but Brad took the opportunity to shut him up in the best way he knew by covering Ray's mouth with his own.  
Later sweaty and sated Ray looked over at Brad and with a smile he said "So where should I send the thank you card?"  
 


	4. Six

six: 273 words  
   
There were six shirts, six pairs of socks, sick regulation black briefs, six black wife beaters all of which were not Walt's, but they were in his draw. Walt walked into the living room and noticed the books that didn't belong to him in the bookshelf, the DVD's by the TV that were definitely not his, the shoes by the door that were the wrong size, and the general presence of Ray in his apartment. And then there was the man himself who was currently passed out over the table, surrounded by books, paper and empty coffee cups. As he walked past he 'accidentally' kicked Ray's chair. The result made Walt burst out laughing. Ray sat up rigidly straight, eyes bleary but alert, a loose page stuck to one side of his face, and his hair looking like he had been playing with the power sockets.  
"Morning Ray." Walt managed to get out  
"Ugh dude it's six in the morning, why did you have to wake me, I've only been asleep an hour."  
"Cause I have to get to base and you need to get moving." Walt said reaching out to peel the page from Ray's face. The page was particularly stuck by his mouth. As Walt pulled Ray made a face and captured Walt by his belt. Once the page was free Ray buried his face in Walt's stomach. Walt laughed. "You are such a child sometimes Ray." dragging his finger's through the wild hair Walt hummed "Six hours Ray, six hours and you can do whatever you want with me."  
Ray looked up at him with unmasked glee, "Anything you say?"


	5. Delivery

Delivery: 417 words  
   
Ray looked at his reflection in the mirror on the back of Brad's wardrobe door and mumbled to himself "Why the hell am I dressed like this?" he sighed, resigned to his fate as the butt of the jokes for the night. The tan short shorts looked like they belonged to Rudy, and the shirt while it would look normal on a fourteen year old was about four sizes too small for Ray. Seriously he was never letting Brad pick a costume for him again. Ever. Just because he had no time to get one for himself between work and school. "Too busy kissing the LT's ass to pick a decent costume...the giant Aryan Viking bastard picked a motherfucking chick's delivery worker uniform." he made a fruitless effort to pull the shorts down. Sighing he gave up and made his way out of the room. "Brad, I swear I am going to make you pay for..." Ray's word's died off when he saw Walt walk out of the bathroom wearing black leather pants with knee high leather boots with red laces, and a sheer white shirt, leaving nothing to the imagination. Ray could see the tattoos that Walt usually kept well hidden. The sight made Ray's mouth run dry. Walt looked up and blushed when he caught sight of Ray. "Uhh, think this is payback for the 'Ice Princess' mug we sent him?" Ray grinned. "You mean that you sent him? Yes Ray I think he is still pissed off about that and not at all distracted by the fact Nate is back in town." Walt smiled and eyed Ray's shorts, which sent a flare of arousal through Ray, "You know those shorts don't look that bad on you Ray." suddenly Ray was very aware of the fact said shorts were extremely short, tight and forced him to free-ball. The shorts hid absolutely nothing. As Ray brought his eyes up from the floor he couldn't help but notice that Walt was closer to him and his own outfit hid about as much as his. Ray could see the bulge in the leather at Walt's crotch, "and y'know Ray, the postal service is a very honourable way to serve the country." Walt took a step closer, now he was right in front of Ray, Ray felt Walt's breath hit his neck when he said right into his ear, "You make me want to rip it off you Ray." Ray looked at Walt and thought; maybe the evening won't be so bad after all.


	6. Land

Land- word count 102  
   
Ray was getting out. He was out of the Marines and now that he had his brain back he was getting out of Missouri and out of the states. Now he was heading for some tiny ass land mass in the middle of the ocean. Ray just needed to get away. Away from all the things that reminded him of Iraq, the good and the bad. He needed time to think, time to be the person he wanted to be rather than who he had become. He was leaving everyone and everything he loved behind.  
Maybe one day he would come back


	7. Motel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set before 'Voicemail'

Motel- set before my drabble for 'Voicemail' word count 132    
Walt sat on the edge of the crappy motel bed, water still dripping from his hair, thinking about what Ray had said to him last time they spoke. The words were weighted with something Walt wasn't sure he understood. Ray was his friend, one of his best friends, and yes Walt could acknowledge that he had feelings for Ray that were more than just friends. He didn't want to risk that by telling Ray what he felt and having Ray reject it. Reject _him_. But Walt knew that when Ray saw him walk through that bar door after months of not seeing the other, his face would light up. He would be happy to see Walt. And Walt would face the question of if he was willing to risk it all later.


	8. Crossing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, I forgot about this one. Whoops! Ummm yeah I should warn for character death in this one.

Crossing- word count 171  
   
Nate stood at the street corner letting the mid afternoon rush of people flow around him, not feeling them bump into him. Not hearing the grumbles as he stood still. He was too busy looking at the ground at his feet. Off one of the street light poles the yellow police tape fluttered, the area no longer cordoned off. It only happened yesterday yet it felt a lifetime ago, he had been at home waiting when it happened. Nate didn't know anyone who had ever been so selfless at the distress of another. The mythic and classical figures he had once studied failed in comparison to the man who had rushed out into the crossing to save a lost little girl from being hit by that car. The little girl had avoided being hit. But her rescuer wasn't so lucky. Nate continued to look down at the ground where the violent red blood of the man he was so passionately in love with remained, with one thought in his mind. _Ray._


	9. Board

Board- word count 115  
   
Ray lay floating on the surfboard in the calm water underneath the warm California sun. He felt relaxed and lazy. There was no need for vigilance, constant movement or need to be awake for days on end. He felt good, the absence of all that ripped fuel in his blood let him think again without the next thought crashing into the last like a pile up in a NASCAR race. He was slowly gaining some of the weight that he, like all the rest had lost during the invasion. The warmth of the sun seeped through the wetsuit he had on, he felt like a cat in a pool of sunlight. Smiling, Ray let himself drift. 


	10. Tracks

Tracks- word count 107  
   
Brad hadn't seen Ray yet and it had been more than an hour since he ha heard the door slam shut. He couldn't hear any sound of the shower or the TV. He could however track Ray's path through their apartment. Shoes kicked off by the door. Keys on the table in the hall. Bag dumped on the kitchen counter. Hoodie discarded over the back of the couch. Wife beater in the bedroom doorway. The man himself sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on knees, head resting in the hand that were fisted in his hair. He looked more defeated than Brad had ever seen


End file.
